Aleister inhaled a sharp breath as he clutched his chest, pushing the spellbook to the ground. The surrounding muscles tightened as he strengthened his grip in return. However, after several moments, they began to relax as he exhaled.

  “What happened to you last night?” Syn asked with an inquisitive grin as she floated in front of him.

  No longer dealing with the searing pain, he could now focus on the rest of his body. He pushed the drenched blankets off his legs and stood up. A faint heat flowed through his being, and although his skin was currently sticky, the sensation of coolness permeated through all of his pores, as if they were all alive and breathing.

  Let alone himself, the world around him appeared more vibrant and alive. The very air around him was crisp and full of life and vigor. The carpet tickling his feet, softer and more plush than the previous night. Even the light that shone through his window carried more detail and hue than yesterday.

  He punched the air above him with both hands at the same time and dropped his back down onto his bed. “Last night...I don’t know how to describe it. But right now, I feel better than ever.”

  “You don’t need to explain it to me. In fact, it might not even be explainable, but, you definitely deserve to feel that way right now. After all, you’ve finally become a Weaver.”

  Aleister smirked. He had his suspicions and Syn had gone ahead and confirmed them. “I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed though.”

  “Is feeling better than ever not good enough for you?”

  “That’s just lingering effects of the medicine.”

  “Why are you trying to downplay this? You should celebrate!”

  Aleister sat up. “I don’t have time to celebrate.”

  “You have all the time in the world now, but just take a deep breath and enjoy this moment.”

  “I just did. But now I need to understand what becoming a Weaver means for me.”

  “You’re too excited for your own good. Alright then, since you desire you get started right now, listen to me.” Syn dropped down and stood in front of him, picking up the spellbook. “First things first, confirm your classification for me.”

  “And I do this how?”

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  “You should feel boundless amounts of energy rushing out of you. What you need to do is find the source of that energy.”

  “I don’t feel that way. In fact, it’s almost the opposite. As if energy is pouring into me, although I assume the method should be the same. Find where that energy travelled towards, correct?”

  “Interesting.” Syn bounced her index finger off her lips. “There’s already such a change, so now there’s no doubt in my mind that you will wield arcane magic. But yes, it should still be similar.”

  Aleister nodded. The energy he felt pour into him wasn’t full of force, like a raging river. Instead, it was calm. He dipped his conciousness into the stream and let it carry him. A few rocks bumped into him along the way, but the overall journey was smooth. The energy led to an empty lake, where it continued to pour into nothing. A small object in the middle caught his eye. He wadded through and picked up what looked like a white box.

  As he opened his eyes, that same white box appeared between his fingers. “Arcanist,” he whispered. The word forced itself through his lips in a natural fashion. As if it were the answer to a question he had always known.

  “So it is true.” Syn let out a single laugh of satisfaction. “Classification refers not only to Weaver classification, but to soul classification. After all, the term Weaver refers to one who weaves the world with their soul. So what you’re holding onto right now is the physical manifestation of your soul.”

  “My soul is a single blank box? How...odd?”

  “How odd indeed.”

  Quite a bit of intrigue filled his mind right now as he flipped the box over and over again.

  “I won’t be able to help you understand your own abilities, as its just something that will come to you naturally with time. However, I can explain some of the more generalist aspects and perks that come with being a Weaver.”

  “Prey tell.”

  “First is the control of your inner anima. Your case is slightly different, but, it is flowing in you, so the same rules should still apply. Each individual, even if they aren’t a Weaver, naturally generates anima. In fact, its not just people, but animals, monsters, and in certain situations, even inanimate objects.”

  “Like the alchemical fire.”

  “Exactly. In the case of living creatures, this anima comes from the soul. However, this anima is in its most raw form. Thus, its both useless and uncategorized for most purposes, besides being absorbed by the world. Trees, plants, the ground, the sky, all of these natural phenomena absorb the anima created by people and recycle it. The natural process creates anything from rare metals and gems to giant eagles and rabbits with horns. And for a less ridiculous example—food.”

  “So essentially, even an apple that falls from a tree is made with anima, and the souls of living creatures created that anima which created that said apple?” Aleister sighed deeply. He crossed his legs and rested his head on the palm of his hand. “This makes so much more sense than the stupid string garbage I thought up of.”

  “Yes, but that’s the exact reason I couldn’t tell you. You needed to come up with your own way to connect everything. Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

  “In the end, yes, it worked out. But what about if it didn’t?”

  “Don’t get too hung up on the what ifs. Anyway, to get back on track, the difference between normal individuals and Weavers is that the latter can control the anima they generate. This control manifests themselves in the forms of primal magic or, if a god helped and awakened your soul, divine magic. And in your case, arcane magic.”